


Faded Wings, Burnt Promise.

by AWriterNamedClora



Category: Constantine (2005)
Genre: Angel Wings, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, References to Addiction, Self-Hatred, Smoking, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:28:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWriterNamedClora/pseuds/AWriterNamedClora
Summary: The Raven paves through the morning turmoil like this were any other casual day of incessant bullshit;but it isn't.The familiar feeling of a coming headache begins to intermingle with the residing pain.
Relationships: John Constantine/Chas Kramer
Kudos: 5





	Faded Wings, Burnt Promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys; pretty new to the fandom so attempt to forgive me for this?- XD
> 
> I fell in love with this movie a while ago and had to add on with this ship because oh my god we should've had context to their relationship or *something* like hhhh   
> Also it's drying up a bit so maybe this awful thing will convince the actually *good* writers to come out of their shells, huh?-  
> Sorry, read on- 😂✊

_×==============================×_

_An additional_ **_striking_ ** _coat of black that covetously frames his tense form; flows and flaps having endured once a too many dark storm, whirlwinds of screeching souls that past recollections of fearing rips and tears and coffee trails became laughable, several times the face of hell_ **_itself_ ** _and now as ever, coated in utter_ **_viscera_ ** _._

_Scarlet, faded-and-aged brown, and burgundy marks bleed together through his suit and stain in the sun's bitter fire, yet again another reminder of Lucifer's tauntingly insidious smile._

**_It's burned into his edged mind, and at this point, the wish of sanity or heaven's warm retrieval was a hopeless whimper lost in an uncaring wind._ **

+vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv+

_A shaking hand retracts into the left-side pocket, like animalistic instinct._

Or in John's case? **_Pure ol' repetition;_ **

**_From the cradle to the renounced graves, the poor bastard can't seem to quit._ **

He inhales deeply, picturing golden gates for a mere moment..

×=============================×

-Cigarette ash suddenly whirls and hits the dirt faster than a bullet of rain. The flares flicker and burn the discoloured soil in anguish; swirl then scatter like flaming, drunk dancers across the ground.

**'Damn it kid, I thought I told you to stop following m-'**

He goes to turn but only a burnt feather is left, its edges tainted a deep grey.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this mess! 😂😄👌


End file.
